


Here, There And Everywhere

by Newsetofproblems



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Cheesy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Songfic, a hint of hurt/comfort, but like very light, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23359741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newsetofproblems/pseuds/Newsetofproblems
Summary: perhaps if they ever talked about it, they would have to acknowledge some things that neither of them wanted to. It was something that was delicate, only held together by the silence they kept.-OR, John and Paul cuddle a lot and it's not gay until it is.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 24
Kudos: 100





	Here, There And Everywhere

**Author's Note:**

> Based on when John complimented Paul on here there and everywhere during filming of help,,,, with a romantic twist.

They didn’t talk about it. It would do no good to talk about it. It was always something they _did_ rather than talk about. The first time it happened John was 17. It had been around a month after… _that_ and John had scaled Paul’s house up to his bedroom window. He couldn’t even remember how he’d managed it. Thankfully, Paul had let him in. Neither of them spoke. They just laid down on Paul’s bed and John had snuggled into Paul, desperately seeking much needed comfort. He allowed himself to get lost in Paul’s warmth. He thought he’d felt Paul stroking his hair, but perhaps he’d just imagined it. It would continue to happen every time they shared a bed. John’s head buried into Paul’s chest or his back. Paul’s lips on John’s neck, never quite pressing down enough to be considered a kiss. Hands through hair. They didn’t talk about it. Because perhaps if they ever talked about it, they would have to acknowledge some things that neither of them wanted to. It was something that was delicate, only held together by the silence they kept.

It had almost broken in Paris. It was the early hours of the morning, and the two of them were only just crawling into their small hotel bed. Paul had slurred something John hadn’t quite understood.

“Wa’s that, lad?” he’d asked.

“ _Kiss me_ ,” Paul repeated, and John’s heart stopped. Thoughts he thought he’d safely locked away came flooding to the front of his mind. He swallowed and forced up a nervous chuckle.

“Christ Macca, yer not even going to take me out first?” he quipped.

“No, ye took me out,” Paul mumbled back, sounding completely serious; and John had no idea how to respond to that. By kissing him, he supposed. And Christ, did John want to do just that. But… he couldn’t. He knew he couldn’t.

“Paul, yer fuckin’ drunk,” was what he went with instead. Paul shook his head.

“No-“

“ _Yes,_ ” he insisted. “You nearly drank the whole bar at that club, you don’t know what you’re saying.” _You’ll hate me tomorrow_.

“Yes I do!” Paul insisted. “ _John._ I know you want this too- _”_

“Paul… I’m not gonna kiss you,” John cut him off. “Besides what would Jim do if I brought ye back queer, eh?” he joked. Paul didn’t laugh. “You won’t want me to kiss you in the morning, Macca.”

“No, I will. I know I will.”

“Then ask me to kiss you then.”

“ _John._ ”

“Ask me then and I’ll do it.”

“…Okay.”

“Let’s go to bed.” Paul nodded and they arranged themselves on the cheap mattress. Paul fell right asleep, leaving John’s mind to race. _What the fuck just happened?_ Paul had asked him to kiss him. _Paul had asked him to **kiss** him! _That kind of thing was only supposed to be a premise to John’s most secret dreams and fantasies. There was no way Paul could feel that way about him, could he? John could barely acknowledge that he felt that way about Paul let alone Paul about him. A chilling thought crossed his mind. What if Paul knew? what if Paul knew and it was some kind of sick prank? No… John decided. Paul wasn’t that cruel, not like him. John scrunched his eyes shut. Paul had asked him to kiss him and there was a part of John that had screamed at him to do it. And he told Paul he would if Paul asked him in the morning. John was such a fucking idiot. Why did he say that? _I hope he asks._ Fuck you. He won’t ask. But what if…? he won’t. All his thoughts just seemed so fucking loud. It was torture. John sighed and slowly plucked up the courage to nuzzle himself into the crook of Paul’s neck, something that would come naturally under normal circumstances. For now, it was all he could do.

Morning came. Paul didn’t ask John to kiss him.

Years passed. John got married, had a kid. Their little band had conquered the world. Paul was dating a beautiful actress. Sharing beds became less and less regular. And even when they did it all seemed… less justifiable.

The filming of Help! had taken them to the Austrian alps. Mountains that seemed to stretch for miles, sun that hit the snow at just the right angle to make it sparkle, ice that looked like they were crystals. It was beautiful. It was fucking _cold_ was what it was. John couldn’t feel the ends of his bloody fingertips. Filming seemed to drag on forever, especially since Dick Lester seemed to be determined to tell them nothing about what they were doing or why they were doing it. At least _some people_ seemed to be having fun.

Paul and Ringo, stoned out of their minds had run for the bloody hills. Some poor crewman was tasked with going and fetching them. John had burst out laughing despite himself. Probably because he was high too, but that was besides the point. The point was that John was sure if had been anyone else it would’ve pissed him off. They were lengthening the process between John being out in the snow and John being in a warm room. He should be angry but fuck, Paul was just so _cute_. When the two men were finally dragged back by the exasperated looking crewman Paul caught John’s eye and gave him a grin that devolved into giggles in a matter of seconds. John’s heart soared.

Filming finally wrapped early in the evening and everyone returned to the lodge they were staying in. John and Paul were sharing a room which John was secretly thrilled about. There were two beds, which he was even more secretly irritated about.

They had some time before they had to go to dinner, so Paul suggested they listen to some demos on their cassette player.

“You work to bloody hard,” John murmured. Paul chuckled.

“Oh, come on, it’s hardly work,” he countered. John smiled to himself.

“Whatever you say.”

The demos were filled with half finished songs and scraps of ideas. Some were good. Others not so much but one in particular stood out to John.

_There, running my hands through her hair_

_Both of us thinking how good it can be_

_Someone is speaking_

_But she doesn't know he's there_

_…_

_Knowing that love is to share_

_Each one believing that love never dies_

_Watching her eyes and hoping I'm always there_

_I will be there_

_And everywhere_

_Here, there and everywhere_

The song faded and John was silent. He could feel Paul’s eyes watching him.

“… what did you think?” he asked.

“That… I think that’s the best one. That’s my favourite.” _I wish it was about me._ He turned to Paul who’s cheeks were red.

“Don’t be daft,” he muttered.

“No I’m serious!” John blurted. “It’s great… I love it.” _I wish I had got to write it with you. Not because I’m jealous, because I just want to look at you while you write something so beautiful._ Paul, looked away, blush still present.

“Thanks,” he said, voice almost in a whisper. “Come on, we better get ready for dinner.”

It grew colder at night. Chills crept into the air and the only defence John had against it was his blankets. And he was losing. Paul wasn’t fairing any better. John kept glimpsing at the man across the room from him. Paul had his sheets and the duvet wrapped around him tightly, but he was still shuddering, eyes squeezed shut. John couldn’t take it anymore. He flung his sheets open and walked across the room to Paul. Paul stared up at him eyes wide and John’s confidence faltered slightly. He bit his lip and tugged slightly at the covers. Paul nodded. John mentally sighed in relief and slipped in. He rested his head against Paul’s chest. He could hear his heartbeat. They held each other close, shielding themselves from the cold. Feeling brave John reached up a hand to stroke Paul’s face but instead of leaning into it, Paul only tensed.

“Why are you doing this John?” he breathed. John looked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“We’re not kids anymore we can’t just…” he trailed off. “You know.”

“You were cold,” John replied simply, though his insides were lurching. “Do you want me to leave?” Paul was quiet for a minute.

“…No,” he said in a voice that was barely audible. John said nothing and closed his eyes. Silence fell upon them. John could no longer tell if he’d been laying with Paul for 5 minutes or 5 hours. Until he started to feel fingers thread through his hair. John hummed in approval and he swore he heard Paul let out a small giggle which warmed him to the core. Paul’s fingers continued to comb his hair and John couldn’t help but lean into it.

_There, running my hands through her hair_

“Paul…” John murmured.

“Mm?”

“Could you sing the song to me?”

“What song?”

“The song from the demos… the one I liked.”

“Oh… I-… okay.”

_To lead a better life_

_I need my love to be here_

Paul’s voice was quiet and slightly raspy, but John loved it all the same. He felt Paul’s chest rising and falling as listened. A wave of calm rushed over John. He felt as though he was being wrapped in several layers of blankets and being offered a mug of hot chocolate.

_I want her everywhere_

_And if she’s beside me I know I may never care_

_But to love her is to need her everywhere_

_Knowing that love is to share_

_Each one believing that love never dies_

_Watching_ his _eyes and hoping I’m always there_

A spark shot through John’s body. That was a mistake… right? He raised his head to stare at Paul. Paul just smiled sheepishly.

“Don’t take it seriously,” he murmured. “I just-“ but John’s lips were already on his. John felt as if he could just melt into Paul right there and then, become one with him. He knew this was a bad idea, he knew he should pull away, but it just felt too good. He was completely lost in the soft feeling of Paul’s lips. The world could end right then and there and to completely honest, John wasn’t entirely sure he’d care. Eventually his conscience got the better of him and he forced himself to pull away.

“Paul, I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be,” Paul cut him off. He placed a chaste kiss on John’s forehead and then another to his lips. “I’ve been waiting for that since Paris.” John froze.

“You never asked. In the morning, I mean,” he murmured.

“I was scared.”

“You think I wasn’t?”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

They were silent for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes.

“I wrote that song waiting for you to wake up,” Paul said.

“You should’ve come to sleep with me. I mean, not like that, just…” John trailed off, knowing he’d just embarrassed himself. Paul giggled.

“If I did that I would’ve never written the song, would I Johnny?” _Johnny._

John laced their hands together.

“I guess not,” murmured.

“We should sleep,” Paul said. “Long day tomorrow.” John nodded.

“Yeah,” he murmured. They started to drift off in each other’s arms, and for the first time John realised this thing between them was unbreakable.

_I will be there._

_And everywhere._

_Here, there, and everywhere._

**Author's Note:**

> Did I write this to procrastinate working on my other fic? mayyyybe.
> 
> I feel like I kinda rely on the same tropes, and I'm hoping my next fic will deviate from that a little. So look forward to that, I guess.
> 
> Please comment, it makes my day!  
> And talk to me on tumblr: https://theotherproblems.tumblr.com/


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